Unwarranted Encounter…
15th August 2025
Hello my most beautiful and precious starshine,
I really hope you’re okay my lovely, and you’re now sitting back, and happily chilling and relaxing with some fabulous music {} xxx
Anoushka Shankar is on right now. If you’re watching, I hope you’re thoroughly enjoying her. I’ll catch up on iPlayer. I’ve just put it on. Anoushka and the orchestra sound absolutely stunning. I’ll stop. Hopefully I can watch some of the concert tomorrow. I’m really looking forward to it.
The sitar is also a sublime and magical instrument. I just thought of you… I heard it live for the first time at the Birmingham Conservatoire, which was also in my last year. I had many firsts there. I’m so happy that I did.
I hope you’ve had a really good day {} xx Mine was okay until the afternoon. Liron wasn’t here for a delivery, so I had to get it. I was struggling. I got to the door, the delivery guy was a good distance away. He asked if I was okay, I said yes. I was struggling with my energy and breath.
He took a photo in my direction, whilst he was still holding the packages. He then came over and handed the packages to me. I wasn’t quite sure if I’d imagined what had just happened. I felt violated. Normally photos are taken of the handover. There wouldn’t be any packages in his photo.
I went up and looked at myself in the mirror. I was wearing my playsuit because it’s so hot. I wondered if I was exposing too much. It’s not too short, but I felt ashamed of my body, especially my legs.
I checked to see if the photo was posted with the delivery details. There was nothing. Again, I wondered if I imagined the encounter, but my feelings told me I didn’t. It didn’t feel right.
He either saw me as an object, or he took the photo to ridicule me. I want to see what he’s taken. I’m worried in case he posts it. There were so many thoughts going through my head. I hated my body again. I hated my legs. I wished they weren’t so long.
I never thought I’d be made to feel like this at home. As you know, I’ve only just started feeling comfortable in my own skin, but this has brought back my old feelings of wanting to cover up fully. I never wanted to be seen as a sexual being. I still don’t. Consent is everything.
I told Liron when she came home. I needed to make sure I hadn’t got it wrong. I wasn’t trusting my feelings. She told me I needed to contact the company and report him. He could be doing this to others as well.
It’s easier when it’s for others, but I couldn’t shake off the feeling that I’d done something wrong. Why is it easier to blame myself? I was in shock and I know this has triggered me as well. So many triggers!!
I called the company and they were really lovely and took it very seriously. They’ll be investigating. I would like to see the photo and have it back, away from him. I feel he’s taken a part of me without my permission. I do feel violated.
There’s also a part of me that feels like a bad person for reporting him. I feel bad for getting him into trouble. I feel like the bad person again, just as I did as a child and then in my twenties to mid thirties with the other person. He got my consent by convincing me that I needed to do those things to get myself right.
It’s now 21.21.
I needed to be put on hold a number of times during the call. I thought of you. I was telling you what was happening. You’re still my safety. You’re no longer in my life, but you’re still always with me. You were a huge part of my life. Regardless of what happens in the future (I still hope everything will be okay), you’ll always be a part of me {} xx
I still feel shocked and upset. It’s bringing up so many things. There’s still a lot of self blame and shame there. What a day. I’m going to get ready to sleep now. I want to switch off. I want to escape. I wish I could…
You take the greatest care of yourself my lovely. Have a wonderful rest, and enjoy all the fabulous music for me as well. Then sleep well, sleep restfully and peacefully, with sweet dreams for both of us {} xxx
I wish I could hug you. Your hugs are so comforting. They’re home {} xxxx